


Heartbeat

by QuietDarkness



Series: Hearts (Destiel) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietDarkness/pseuds/QuietDarkness
Summary: Dean's realization of his feelings for Cas causes an unintentional rift between the two. Can he get his act together long enough to save what could be?(Part 1)





	

**Author's Note:**

> (This is the first in a series of one shots all about Cas and Dean's relationship. Enjoy!)

Dean had been staring at the same spot on the wall for nearly an hour, like a section of peeling paint could solve all his problems. Even in the relative dark, he’d practically memorized the way the gray and sour green paint swirls split into jagged lines, revealing the drywall beneath in a rather filthy display of neglect. There was probably a time this house had been more than just a place to squat. It had probably been someone’s dream house, a place to raise the kids, to feel safe and normal. Now it was just a shit box, weathered with time and falling apart, reeking of mildew and leaking water from the roof like a series of faucets as the storm raged outside.

He and Sam had found the driest room in this disaster to sleep in. It was probably a living room or family room. Though the only thing that made it halfway hospitable was the fireplace which thankfully still worked. Despite the fact both of them had been pretty much soaked to the bone, Dean had stoked the fire and insisted Sam sleep closest to the hearth. He’d had a bitch of a cough for the last few days. And hunting a vamp nest in the middle of storm season hadn’t done him any favors. Dean could hear his little brother’s heavy breathing, the taller Winchester peacefully whiling the night away. In fact, it was what Dean should have been doing as well, considering neither one of them had slept more than a few hours in the last three days. But he couldn’t stop staring at the damn spot on the wall.

He rolled himself onto his back with a huff, reaching his hands up and folding them beneath his head, staring at the water stained ceiling. It was time to change the view. Maybe that would help him pass out. But after yet another hour of staring at a single spot, he let out a growl that practically rumbled his entire chest, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He moved to hover over Sam, just for a moment. Sam hadn’t moved an inch, hands clasped over his stomach like it was perfectly natural to sleep on a filthy hard wood floor. Dean took in a deep breath, let it out and went outside.

This place didn’t have a front door anymore, which made it easy not to wake Sam. He kept his booted steps as quiet as possible on the split boards of the wrap around porch. The wooden cascaded awning overhead was barely hanging on for dear life, but it still managed to offer protection from the rain that tumbled down from one hell of a dark sky. He couldn’t see a damn thing out in the trees that surrounded the place. The dirt driveway was practically a river at this point, the Impala parked sidelong in front of the porch, glistening in what little light the world had to offer. He could hear the thudding of drop after drop on the roof of the car, a drumline of raindrops to drown out his own heartbeat.

And dammit to hell, his heartbeat hated him these days.

_“Just… back off, Cas!” Dean had growled out at the angel, pushing against the trench-coated shoulder of probably the only other person in existence who was capable of putting up with his shit. Cas was probably a hell of a lot stronger than Dean would ever be. But he let himself get moved, stepping back and staring at the older Winchester with those damn blue eyes, a flood of confusion filling up his expression instantly._

_“Dean, I don’t understand.” He replied cautiously, one hand still out in his silent gesture to heal. Dean ground his teeth together, clenching his jaw. He dropped the blood soaked rag from his forehead, practically chucking it across the room._

_“I said don’t. I don’t need your healing. I don’t need you doting on me. I don’t need you.” he’d railed on, stepping past Cas in the bunker kitchen to the first aid kit on the wall. It was stupid, it was foolish and childish and… shit. Dean paused with both hands on the old white box on the wall, the red plus sign in the middle scolding him quietly. Ever since Dean had realized how much he actually did need Cas, how much he felt for the guy, well… he’d done the exact opposite of his feelings. He’d been doing everything he could to push the angel away, to not stare into those depthless blue eyes, to not melt every time Cas smiled, to not long for him every time he touched him. He didn’t know why. He was just being the world’s biggest jackass because… because what? Because he’d fallen in love with the guy? What sort of sense did that make? He lowered his hands and turned to apologize, but he was met with an empty kitchen and nothing but the sound of his damn heartbeat torturing him for being an asshole._

That had been nearly two weeks ago. Two weeks of no Cas and drowning himself in work in an effort to think of anything and anyone but Cas. Needless to say, it wasn’t working.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Dean heard Sam say, turning to see his younger brother leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. He frowned up at the Sasquatch of a man and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah? That’s rich coming from the guy who decided to get pneumonia.” Dean countered, raising his chin ever so slightly. Sam shook his head.

“I didn’t decide to…” Sam paused, then sighed. “Never mind. Just… call Cas so you can get some sleep. Tell him to meet us at the bunker tomorrow so you can tell him how you feel and we can move on with our lives.”

“How the hell would you know how I feel?” Dean demanded a little defensively, letting his arms fall, then his face softened slightly, a hand habitually scraping through his hair as he looked down at a particularly fractured floor board. “I don’t even know how I feel, man.”

“Yeah, ya do.” Sam said, stepping out on the porch. “Why do you think you’ve been such a grade-A dick to him for the last month?”

“I don’t know! That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Sam! I don’t know!” he growled out in frustration. And he was being honest for the most part. He didn’t know why he was being this way. Why he felt the incredible need to push Cas as far away from him as possible, and yet keep him as close as possible.

For a long moment, Sam was quiet. Then he gripped Dean’s shoulder. “Cause you’re afraid.” Before Dean could protest, which he really wanted to do, Sam let his hand fall. “You’re afraid because for the first time in years, you really -really- love someone. And given our track records with relationships, you’re afraid he’ll get hurt because of you, or that you’ll royally screw shit up, or that one way or another, it’ll end in blood and tears. But, man…” Sam looked at Dean with that expression that was all care and just a little bit chastising, “It’s Cas. If anyone can handle it, if anyone can handle you, it’s him, Dean. You’re pushing him away to try to protect him. But what are you even protecting him from? He lives the same sort of messed up lives we do. Don’t you think it’d be a little more bearable going through it with Cas at your side than without him?” 

Dean was, well… speechless. Dumbstruck. A stupid fucking idiot. Was it really that simple? Was all this really because he just didn’t want Cas to be stuck with his drama and bullshit? He had to look away, staring back out into the raining black of the night and swallowing down a lump. “What do I do, Sam?” he asked, his voice quietly pained. “I really made a mess of things.”

“Yeah, you did. Cause you’re an idiot, like I said. But you’re Cas’s idiot. And he’ll forgive you. Because guess what, Dean?” Sam gently smacked his older brother’s shoulder. “Cas loves you, too.” And with that, the taller Winchester disappeared inside the shithole house, leaving Dean alone to stare at nothing and hate himself just a little more than usual.

* * *

He stared at the phone for far longer than he should have, his knuckles practically turning white with the inward struggle to just shove the thing back into his pocket. “Screw it.” he whispered, then hit the dial button. The phone rang. And rang. And went to voicemail. For a long second after the beep, Dean was quiet. It took a branch falling in the woods to snap him out of it and he cleared his throat, pacing lightly. “Cas… hey, it’s… it’s Dean.” he had his free hand on the back of his neck as he talked, staring down at his feet. “I know we haven’t touched base in awhile. And that’s my fault. I get it, man. I just… there’s a lot of things I need to say and apologize for. And I totally understand if you don’t want to hear any of it. But… I’m hoping you will. So… Sam and I are gonna head back to the bunker first thing. Stop by in the afternoon, so we can talk… please.” And with that, he hung up.

His heartbeat was raging, providing the thunder this rain storm didn’t seem to have. And every fiber of his being prayed that Cas would show. No matter how it turned out.

* * *

Dean had been staring at the same spot on the library table for an hour.

He and Sam had been back for two days now. Cas wasn’t at the bunker. And Dean hadn’t found the courage to call again. He couldn’t blame the guy for not showing. Dean had been not only a terrible friend, but just an all around awful person for the stupidest reasons imaginable. That didn’t mean Cas not showing didn’t hurt like a bitch. In fact, Dean was heartbroken. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud. 

He could feel Sam’s eyes on him, practically burning a hole into his head. “What?!” Dean finally growled out, looking over at his brother, nearly dropping the beer bottle in his hand in the process. When he righted it on the table, he sat back in the chair, sighing. “Don’t say it.” Dean said, feeling all the fight just go out of him. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Sam replied, closing the book he’d been reading and setting it on the table. “Except for, maybe, try calling him again.” Dean shook his head instantly. 

“No. Cas made his choice.” He pushed his chair back, grabbing the beer and the plate with the half eaten sandwich on it. “It’s time to move on.” And he left Sam and his staring, heading into the kitchen. He emptied the plate and dropped the dish into the sink with a clatter, the plate broke. “Dammit.” he muttered, setting the bottle down and reaching in to pull out the broken shards. He managed to get most of it out before he cut his hand, deep. “Dammit!” he growled, grabbing a towel and pressing it to his palm. Then he turned with a sigh, only to freeze solid in place, eyes going wide, mouth open ever so slightly.

“Hello, Dean.”

Standing there in his suit and backward tie and trench coat and damn ridiculous scruffy hair was Cas, watching Dean with blue eyes that only served to make the older Winchester’s heart hammer inside of him. He was so surprised to see him, Dean couldn’t even say anything. Which was a literal first. Cas just slowly walked up to him, cautiously narrowing his eyes on Dean before reaching up and taking his injured hand in one of his own. He peeled away the towel, then touch the wound with his fingers, looking wary like he half expected Dean to push him away again. But after he was healed, Dean did the exact opposite.

Without warning, Dean flung his arms around the angel and pulled him into a tight and firm hug. At first, Cas didn’t react beyond a surprised little grunt. Then slowly, his arms snaked around Dean, his hands pressing to his back until Dean let him go. He gripped Cas’s shoulders, putting a little distance between them, smiling sheepishly. “Damn, Cas… where’ve you been?”

“I received your message. I… would have come sooner. But I was unsure of what to say.” Castiel replied, his own slight smile creeping forward at Dean’s reactions. Dean shook his head, blinking slightly.

“You didn’t know what to say…” he repeated, then let his hands fall. “Cas you don’t need to say anything. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me, man. All me.” He paced away from the angel, stopping a few feet away with his hands on his hips. “I was an asshole.” Dean said, looking back at Cas somewhat sideways. “I don’t know how else to say it. I treated you like shit and you have every reason to be pissed at me, even hate me for it. And I know it doesn’t excuse any of it, but I am so sorry, Cas.” He turned to face Cas full on, searching the angel’s eyes for… for anything, really. “I mean it, man. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt. I care about you, a lot. I didn’t even realize how much till… all of this.” It was amazing how easily all the words were coming out of him. All this time tearing his brain apart trying to figure out what to say, and Dean was practically being poetic. For Dean, anyway.

For what felt like forever, Cas didn’t move or speak. He just stood there, studying Dean head to toe, his thoughts hidden. Then he closed the distance slowly, leaving just a few breaths of space between them. “I forgive you, Dean.” he said, gently grabbing Dean’s hand he’d just healed. “I was unsure of what to say because I did not know how to tell you how much I care about you. And that I was afraid my… emotions… were pushing you away. I am new to this. But I have come to realize that what I feel is stronger than friendship or family.”

Dean blinked, watching Cas’s mouth as he talked, feeling an immense warmth and comfort in such close vicinity to the angel. “Stronger?” he managed to choke out, clearing his throat a little after. “What do you mean… stronger?” Cas tilted his head lightly, letting his eyes search Dean’s.

“Stronger. As in… I believe I am in love with you, Dean. If you do not feel the same, I understand. And would be happy to remain as friends. It would be better than not having you in my life at all. That is what I really wanted to say, but was not sure, before, how to say it.” Cas said so matter-of-fact-like that Dean laughed. He couldn’t help it. He just laughed so soundly, so happily, that Cas blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Was… that not correct?” he asked. Dean shook his head at him, still grinning, looking down at their hands, then back up at Cas’s face.

“It was the perfect thing to say.” he finally replied, taking a small step closer to Cas, just breathing him in. 

“Then why did you laugh?” he asked, confusion still on his features.

“Because I’m in love with you, too, Cas.” Replied Dean. Cas just kept looking like Cas. Confused and trying to figure out the humor in the situation.

“I don’t understand.” He said, his blue eyes sparkling lightly. Dean could practically drown in them, being this close.

“Just shut up already.” Dean said. Then closed the last bit of distance between them, meeting Cas’s lips with his own. And for the first time in months, Dean’s heartbeat soothed. It calmed and steadied and seemed to work in time with Cas’s. The kiss was all longing, and need, and affection. It was surprisingly tender for both of them, hands tentatively holding on to each other, sharing a moment Dean thought they should have shared long before then. But he’d take it. He’d take every moment of it, and never be afraid of it again. When their lips finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, Cas smiled. A warm, full smile. The sort that was so rare, it captivated Dean every damn time it appeared.

“Shutting up has its merits.” Cas said. And this time, he knew exactly why Dean laughed.

“Yes it does.” Dean finally said, their heartbeats calmly becoming the only sound either one of them needed to hear as they stared at each other’s eyes for over an hour. _Yes it does._


End file.
